


Never Seen Me Smile

by razz



Series: Never Seen You Sweat [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Minor Violence, Not an example for real life situations, fiction is fiction, mild canon-typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razz/pseuds/razz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur doesn't know where to begin to explain. He's always had the philosophy that to control a situation, you control the variables. Emotions are the most unpredictable of variables. You don't go around throwing your own emotions into the mix unless you know what you want back and are sure you'll get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Seen Me Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kazz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazz/gifts).



> So this can be taken as either a sequel or a remix to [Never Seen You Sweat](http://archiveofourown.org/works/587514).
> 
> I intended it to be a sequel, but it came out somewhat differently than I was planning.

The woman's laugh is beautiful. Arthur doesn't know why that makes it worse. Lillian is practically leaning in Eames lap and emitting this lovely full throated laugh, as she moves to whisper something in his ear. Eames quirks his grin at her and makes a suggestion. The dream shivers as she acknowledges his point. 

He's regretting that they didn't ask Ariadne back for this job. Eames has complete faith in this architect, but Arthur isn't sure he's going to be able to work with her. She's charismatic and witty, and Arthur wants her to get her paws off his man. He hadn't even left them for a few minutes - and then to come back to find her like this: practically throwing herself at Eames… 

He's in control, right up until she leans up to plant her luscious lips onto his. Eames lips. Eames lips kissing another's lips. Arthur is on them in a second, ripping her away, swinging her around to meet the bullet he has for her.

There's a frozen moment of silence. Arthur meets Eames' horrified glance before he wakes up, pulling them all out of the dream. 

 

Lillian is yelling when he wakes. Arthur takes a moment to compose himself. He's not going to apologize. Hell, he doesn't regret it, but he's damned if he's going to let anyone else see how upset he is. Instead, he turns on Eames. "What the hell was that?" 

Lillian launches herself at him. He wasn't expecting that, but he should have; she's scrappy. He has advantage of, well, pretty much everything, so he's able to catch her arms behind her back. He pulls her close and whispers low in her ear. "He's mine. Now act like the professional Eames claims you are, before I decide on a repeat performance. Outside of dream space."

She's pale when he releases her and she wraps her arms around herself like she's cold. "Right, then. Let's forget this ever happened, shall we?" Arthur has to admit she has more poise than he would have given her credit for. He straightens his wrinkled vest with an efficient tug, keeping his expression cold and careless.

"Sure. Let's continue."

Eames coughs, "Look at the time! Meet back here tomorrow?" He doesn't really wait for a response before escaping the warehouse they're using as their headquarters. 

Arthur thinks of several choice swears, but doesn't utter any of them aloud. Lillian gives a nervous laugh. "I'm really very sorry, I had no idea. I don't approve of poaching." She's still pretty charming, even though it's clear he has scared her. 

Arthur shrugs away her words. "Sorry I called you unprofessional." He thinks he should probably go after Eames. He doesn't apologize for the bullet or the threat. In their world it was a minor tiff, hardly worth dwelling on. Mal had once knee-capped him in the dream for kissing Dom as a distraction technique. Now there was an overreaction. 

 

He looks rather lost when Arthur finds him in a shady casino back room. Eames has a stack of chips and an array of empty glasses before him - as well as a group of unhappy players. Arthur guesses they were hoping to take advantage of his distracted state.

Eames' gaze sharpens when he sees Arthur and he lays down a great hand. "Well, that's it for me boys." He pulls the new pile of chips over and grins in a distracted way. The other players growl, but Arthur settles one back into his seat with a firm push when he moves to stand. He subtly lets his coat open to reveal his gun.

"Coming?" Arthur asks Eames as the players subside. Eames sweeps up his winnings, darting little glances at him, but he's not really meeting Arthur's eyes. 

They don't speak on the way back to the hotel and it isn't until they're in Arthur's room, that Eames will actually look him straight in the eye. "It will not happen again, darling."

Arthur, who had been planning for a more heated discussion or even argument, feels his stomach unknot in relief. He hopes it isn't showing on his face. He doesn't answer, but he does allow Eames to draw him in close. To scatter kisses on his temple, his brow, his cheekbone, his jaw and finally his lips. 

Arthur feels the tightness in his chest soothing away, but when he speaks, his voice is choked. 

"Good, you know I hate having to make a point more than once."

Eames freezes against him and then sags. Arthur grabs at him in alarm, but Eames catches himself. He staggers over to the bed, dragging Arthur with him. Arthur stops himself from sputtering and just allows himself to be planted on the bed. He manages to hide his surprise when Eames kneels down before him. 

"Arthur," he says very seriously, "did you just shoot Lillian in the dream?" 

Arthur frowns in annoyance, "Are you really trying to mock me? After I've just forgiven you for letting her kiss you? That seems counter intuitive."

Eames' grin is impossibly huge. "Arthur, did you just shoot Lillian because you were jealous?"

Arthur bristles. He considers going for a weapon and beating Eames to death with it. Shooting him just wouldn't be satisfying enough. Instead, he gets a good fistful of Eames shirt, near the collar and drags him close. It looks like they really are going to have that discussion. "If you ever let another person kiss you, outside of a necessary tactic during a job, I will personally cause you bodily harm. Is that clear enough for you?"

Eames' whole face lights up, "I do believe that's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me, darling." He says it without a drop of sarcasm in his tone. Arthur rolls his eyes, but he's holding back a smile. "You're just so collected when we're together, I honestly thought you didn't care one way or the other."

His smile dies unformed on his lips, Arthur feels sick, "Would you have stopped her if I hadn't?" There's a howling hollow of dread in his stomach, and he really can't control the expression on his face.

Eames scrabbles for his hands and then gently cradles his face, "Darling, I thought I did."

"I, what?" Eames is making less than no sense. 

He withdraws the warm hand on Arthur's face to rub at his eyes. "God, I thought I was losing control; like Dom. I thought I had a _projection_ of you kill her. That it was reacting like my subconscious would've wanted you to react. I was terrified." He laughs raggedly.

Arthur feels a pout taking over his mouth, but can't be bothered to hide it, now that he's feeling so off-balance. He can't believe Eames actually thought - "Wait, you didn't think I'd care? You thought this was just - what? - A series of flings for me?"

Eames stares at him with conflicting chagrin and glee. He reaches out and traces the lines of Arthur's mouth where the corners are turned down. "Dearest, why don't you ever let me see you? You don't have to hide from me. Not if you want me as much as I want you."

Arthur doesn't know where to begin to explain. He's always had the philosophy that to control a situation, you control the variables. Emotions are the most unpredictable of variables. You don't go around throwing your own emotions into the mix unless you know what you want back and are sure you'll get it.

Eames gives him what he wants without any planning on Arthur's part. When he lines things up, all Arthur has to do is give it his best. Arthur throws himself into their lovemaking with all the concentration of a job. He catalogues each noise that escapes Eames' throat, he knows just how to draw a chorus of them, an entire symphony. 

It's not only that Arthur doesn't show his own emotions from habit, but because their situation has already given him everything he wants. He knows that Eames will always come to him. He's never doubted the other man's commitment. Eames loves him. That constant was not hard to recognize. Why would Arthur want to throw any kinks into an already perfect system?

Except, apparently; it wasn't perfect. Eames hasn't known the depth of Arthur's feelings for him. Eames has been following Arthur across the globe thinking he was snatching up spare crumbs of Arthur's time, when Arthur would have given him the whole damn feast.

Arthur's brows furrow in the middle. His expression is truly black. He grabs Eames and tugs him onto the bed. "I don't sleep with just anyone," he growls in a rumbly, dangerous voice, "I don't let anyone else follow me to my houses." While he's talking, he's stripping Eames down, enjoying his muscled body and letting it show as much as he can. "I don't want anyone else, naked in my bed."

"Arthur," Eames is wide-eyed with an almost innocent delight that makes Arthur want to squirm. He checks the reaction and then rolls his shoulder's impatiently.

"You want me to stop hiding my emotions from you? I'll try, but it's not just a switch, on or off." He slips out of his own pants and climbs on top of Eames. He rolls his hips and smiles darkly at the gasp it draws. "You want me to beg and call out in bed?" Eames moans throatily, and Arthur can't help but nip at his neck. "I'd rather make you do that." 

Eames laughs and rolls them so he's settled on top of Arthur. "Darling, you're wonderful in bed. I know I've told you that before."

Arthur closes his eyes and lets himself tip his head up for a kiss. Eames covers his mouth tenderly, drawing it out into many sweet chaste kisses, even as he rocks against Arthur. 

"Ask for anything, Arthur. You never ask me for what you want." Eames sounds breathless, and Arthur wonders if it's a kink or just that Eames thought he didn't care before.

"That's because you generally give it to me without me having to ask." Arthur growls, sulkily. "I haven't just been climaxing to some separate fantasy in my head, Eames." He arches, and Eames' warm hand goes to his lower back, supporting him, his blunt fingers incidentally sending warm zings up his spine where his skin and muscles are extra sensitive. "See?" Arthur smiles and wriggles so he gets the dual pleasure of Eames cock sliding against his and those fingers pressing deeper into his muscles.

Arthur closes his eyes again, but reaches into the bedside table for lube. "Touch me like you always do, Eames. I like it. I want you. I've wanted you, all of our times together." 

"God, how are you so articulate, then?" Eames teases as he plucks the lube out of his hands. "No don't answer, my dear. I know you work well under pressure." He smiles wickedly, then his fingers are ghosting down to Arthur's ass.

"Speaking of pressure." Arthur gives him a filthy grin and then arches in surprise. 

"Sorry, darling, was that too sudden?" Eames asks with a grin, as he pulls his finger back out and then teases with barely any pressure at all.

"Eames, get on with it already." 

Something in Eames expression darkens and not in a good way, but then his eyes soften, and it clears. "Oh no, Arthur." He bends down to kiss him, then refuses to let it turn fast or desperate. "No, my dearest, I'll still do that with you, rest assured, but if I don't have to be worried you'll throw me out, I'm going to take my time." Arthur blinks once in surprise. He let's Eames see his puzzlement. Eames kisses him again just as tenderly. "I'm going to enjoy every inch of you," he promises. 

He proceeds to make good on the promise with soft kisses and competent hands that stroke and caress Arthur's body. Arthur bites his lips to stop the impatient words that want to spill out. He wants Eames inside him now, damn it! Just like he always wants Eames inside him as quickly as possible. But he saw that look and he's seen it before, he just hadn't realized what it meant. He submits with ill grace to the teasing touches. 

Eames realizes pretty fast that light touches aren't doing it for Arthur. He doesn't stop though, just grins down at him and starts to be firmer about his explorations. That's not so bad, Arthur thinks. Pretty soon, he revises the conclusion to _really good_. 

Eames digs into tight muscles, and pets oversensitive skin. Then he digs a thumb and some fingers into the nape of Arthur's neck, and Arthur moans involuntarily. Eames' has that delighted look on his face again, and Arthur can't seem to react with anything other than letting his eyes fall closed. He finds the wherewithal to say, "That's really good."

"Thank you, Arthur, I can see that." Arthur considers glaring at him, but then Eames moves his hand up to fist the hair at the nape of Arthur's neck, and he can't help arching back, like a satisfied cat. "I had a feeling you'd like that," Eames says, quietly smug, "but I didn't think you'd actually let me do it before."

Arthur growls and wraps his arms and legs around Eames to drag him close. "Eames, do you think that's enough exploring for now, or can we move on to your perfect dick fucking me through the mattress?"

Eames gives an involuntary thrust and buries his face against Arthur's neck. He tugs on Arthur's hair in just the right way though, and Arthur lets out a truly embarrassing moan without any kind of filter.

"God, Arthur," and Eames always sounds desperate when they're together, but right now he sounds almost broken. It makes Arthur's chest feel tight and really turns him on. 

"Eames, please. You can play all you want later, I'll let you tie me down, if you want to see me really wanton, but I need you in me, right now!" 

The noise that Eames makes is a garbled combination of a laugh and a moan. Finally, finally his fingers are back, teasing at Arthur's hole. He doesn't remove the hand in Arthur's hair, but he's careful not to pull too hard. It's perfect, except it's still too slow. 

Arthur starts to caress Eames' back, the way he know's the other man likes it. He squirms until he can breath wetly into Eames' ear and then nuzzles underneath it.

"Stop that, you heathen. Can't you see I'm about to make this embarrassingly brief?"

"I've never made you come just by touching your ears before." Arthur doesn't bother to control his voice, it comes out sounding breathless.

"You've never let me see so many of your reactions before either. Arthur, the things you do to me."

"Don't you mean the things you do to me?" Arthur squirms down impatiently onto Eames' fingers. "Come on Eames, I'm ready. I'm always ready for you."

"I love your mouth, you should speak your mind more often." Eames chuckles, but Arthur knows now that he's serious. 

"Sometimes, when I know I'm going to be in your area, I prepare myself for you." Arthur admits, in a low mutter. Eames freezes above him, trembling. 

"Fuck." Eames' voice is rough and strained. For a wild moment Arthur is afraid he's actually come just from that. But when Eames shifts to look at Arthur's face, their lower bodies press together. "That was a near thing," Eames laughs, "Fuck! You're amazing. I can't believe I never realized."

"I can't either. Eames, you idiot." Arthur looks fondly up at him.

Eames laughs again, a beautiful, carefree laugh that bubbles right out of him. Arthur can't help but smile at it. Eames lets go of the back of his head to stroke his dimples. 

"If you smiled at me like that every day for the rest of our lives, I'd be the happiest man alive."

"God, Eames, you sap." But he doesn't stop smiling.

Eames just grins back at him. Arthur is about to say something else, a little more archly this time, when Eames pulls his fingers free. He cups Arthur's face in his other hand, "Here we go, darling," and pushes right in. 

"Finally!" Arthur says after a sharp inhale. He clutches at Eames' back and tightens his legs around him again. Eames is settling into a familiar rhythm that has always made Arthur's toes curl and his insides melt. He arches into each thrust and bites at Eames neck, just below his ear.

"Yeah, mmm," Eames is pretty much past the point of coherence, and as usual, it makes Arthur feel very smug.

"I love it when you fuck me like this. Like a machine, like you could go forever. Would you like that? You could fuck me for hours and hours until neither of us could move." There's a small hitch in their rhythm, but Eames keeps going. His thrusts are long and they're hitting Arthur's prostate every time now.

"Eames!" He just moans Eames' name over and over. This is why he generally stays quiet during sex; because he hates sounding drunk on pleasure and is unable to say much of anything after he hits a certain point anyway.

At least Eames isn't much better. He's just making these really sexy, satisfied grunts. When Arthur bites him again and sucks, Eames hisses and speeds up. Oh yeah, that's good, that's definitely what he wanted. 

"Tell me, Arthur. Wanted you. For so long." 

"You've had me, Eames. Eames, Eames!"

So sue him, he's not great at talking about emotions. Eames doesn't really seem to mind, if you go by the way he speeds up and scrambles to make enough room between them to grab Arthur's cock. 

He's still perfectly silent when he comes. But he tilts his head up for a kiss right afterwards and that seems to be enough to undo Eames. He kisses desperately and sucks hard at Arthur's bottom lip, then comes with a long moan. 

From there, not much changes from any other time they've done this. They stroke one another lazily through the afterglow. Then Arthur fussily cleans them off with a towel from the bedside table, just like he always does.

They lay on their sides, facing on the bed and as usual, Eames draws Arthur as close as he'll allow, and then a little closer. When Arthur pets his back, Eames sleeps like a drugged mark.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a way to explain that although Eames feels like he's chasing a one-sided heartbreak with Arthur; to Arthur the best part of their relationship is that Eames is one thing he doesn't have to chase. 
> 
> Eames is constantly ignoring the shit Arthur pulls, the barriers he doesn't know how to let down anymore, and the way he makes Eames work for everything. He doesn't know how to be different, and Eames consistently doesn't ask him to. 
> 
> Arthur hates being unsure. He likes to have a plan, he likes to have contingencies for the plan. But with Eames he's never unsure. Eames shows up like clockwork, like he just can't stay away. Arthur has his number and it pleases him. It pleases him a great deal. 
> 
> So it comes as a shock that Eames doesn't realize _any_ of this.
> 
> But I had a hard time articulating all of that into a story. So after re-writing this about five times with varying amount of wordy explanations, I decided to cut out most of those kind of explanations for Arthur's behavior and just show Arthur's reaction to someone putting the moves on his man. So if this seems incoherent, it's because most of this was written all in one go, after throwing out the plan.


End file.
